Get Goose

I nearly forgot to post my Spade-ism for the week.

This week’s Spade-ism is in honor of Boot Camp, something I haven’t posted on in a while. Suffice it to say I am now in my third month of Boot Camp. Yes, you heard correctly. Numero tres. Just call me crazy. I did switch over to a class that starts an hour later, so I am no longer driving to Boot Camp in the dark. However, I am no longer sleeping in either. While I do suck wind every once in a while, my stamina has definitely improved. Of course, this could also be due to the fact that I am no longer carrying around as much weight on my bones. The junk in my trunk is 14 pounds lighter. This is not to say I am back to my Bo Derek bikini days. Far from it. The ol’ muffin top, though, is a lot less muffin.

So, today we ran some sprints and yesterday we did suicides. And, I noticed that my sprints were quickly turning into jogs. My bones ached. I mean, what happened to the limber girl I used to be? I was like an 80-year-old out there. My “quick turns” in suicides were like slow-motion dance moves. Pathetic.

And on that note, I give you this week’s Spade-ism:

I have seen smoke come off of dog shit faster than that.